


Lesser of Two Evils

by Meicdon13



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sweden (Hetalia), Canon Continuation, M/M, Top Finland (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-23
Updated: 2009-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meicdon13/pseuds/Meicdon13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finland tries to make Sweden tell him why they retreated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesser of Two Evils

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of the strip about the [Polish-Swedish wars](http://community.livejournal.com/hetalia/15100.html).

Finland stared down at Sweden lying underneath him, shirt unbuttoned, pants and underwear serving as a makeshift pillow under his hips, and bowed his head, close enough so that he could see Sweden’s glasses fogging with his exhalation. “Tell me.”

The blush that appeared on Sweden’s face made Finland’s dick twitch. Pulling back a bit, he blushed as well but resisted the urge to cover himself. He gripped Sweden’s arm instead and said, “Su-san, tell me.”

If possible—and Finland thought that it was impossible for Sweden to even blush in the first place—the taller nation turned even redder and turned his face away a bit, eyes closing to mere slits. “Can’t,” Sweden mumbled, his tone placating and somehow apologetic.

Finland wasn’t having any of it. He usually didn’t mind if Sweden didn’t tell him things—because he trusted Sweden and if Sweden didn’t think that Finland should know something, then it was alright with Finland—but this time, it was different. He’d been preparing for _days_ , had actually been looking forward to the battle. Because he knew that if it were him with Sweden, Lithuania and Poland wouldn’t have had a chance.

More than a little annoyed, Finland moved his fingers, scissoring them, and watched as Sweden arched his back ever so slightly. Finland’s mouth went dry at the sight. “Why can’t you tell me, Su-san?” he asked, licking his lips. He leaned forward, pressing against Sweden torso-to-torso. “If you don’t tell me I…” he hesitated. “I won’t stop.”

To be honest, there was a small part of Finland that was hoping that Sweden would keep his mouth shut. Because otherwise, he wouldn’t really have an excuse to continue what he was doing. And Finland had to admit that even if he was hesitant about the turn of events, his body most certainly wasn’t.

Finland waited for Sweden’s answer, his eyes locked with the other nation. His fingers dug into Sweden’s bicep. “Last chance, Su-san.” _Say no, Su-san…_

Almost defiantly, Sweden met Finland’s eyes and shook his head slowly, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

A bit hurt—why wouldn’t Sweden tell him?—and a bit angry, Finland yanked his fingers out and pushed, entering Sweden in one stroke.

Finland shuddered at the sudden heat that surrounded him, his arms shaking as they held him up. Beneath him, Sweden had grabbed his shoulders, his nails almost breaking through Finland’s skin, making the smaller nation wince.

“D-does it hurt…Su-san?” Finland gasped, eyes squeezed shut. He tried not to move but couldn’t help rolling his hips, pressing himself against Sweden, feeling the impossible tightness that held him in place. It was too much. Too much—

“No,” Sweden panted. And then he wrapped his legs around Finland’s waist and pulled on his shoulders, and suddenly Finland found himself kissing Sweden, their tongues tangling and teeth clicking uncomfortably together.

“Y’ c’n move,” Sweden said when they parted, his glasses askew and his chest heaving. Finland swallowed thickly and nodded.

It took him a few tries before he could find a rhythm that they were both comfortable with, their hips meeting awkwardly at every thrust, both of them unused to their current positions. Finland couldn’t bring himself to care, though. As long as he was with Sweden—doing this with Sweden and no one else—it didn’t matter if it was hurried or sporadic or awkward. It didn’t matter if Sweden were the one in him or beneath him as long as it was _Sweden_.

“ _Aaaah!_ ” Suddenly, Sweden arched impossibly beneath him, his hands tightening like pincers on Finland’s arms, and for a moment, the smaller nation thought that he would break.

His first thought was to stop moving but he remembered how he would do the same thing, crying out whenever Sweden found that spot inside him, and Finland tried to hit that spot inside Sweden again, angling his hips and putting more force behind his thrusts.

Sweden looked at him, his eyes glazed and unfocused. “S-sto—”

“No.” And Finland moved faster, harder, relishing the noises Sweden made when he hit the other nation’s sweet spot again. Panting, he shoved a hand between them and grabbed Sweden’s erection, rubbing his thumb across the tip.

On Finland’s next thrust, they skidded a few inches across the floor. Sweden narrowly avoided hitting his head against a chair and reached above him to grab the leg of the heavy wooden table. Gaining leverage, he moved harder against Finland, matching every thrust of the smaller nation’s hips with one of his own.

“Su-san…” Finland moaned, his forehead pressed against Sweden’s shoulder. “I c-can’t…” He left the sentence hanging as he bit down on the juncture between Sweden’s neck and shoulder, pleasure swamping him as he came. His hand tightened on Sweden’s cock and he pumped it, hearing the groan as Sweden followed suit.

They lay panting on the floor in a messy sticky heap, Sweden’s arms wrapping around Finland’s waist.

Sweden mumbled something and Finland pulled back a bit and asked, “What did you say, Su-san?”

Sweden blushed, his eyes looking at something to his right, and muttered, “If m’ good friend weren’t happy, I wouldn’t be either.”

Finland stared at him for a few seconds before he collapsed back on Sweden’s chest, trying not to laugh.


End file.
